Bell
by BellamyBlake-ClarkeGriffin
Summary: Quick One-Shot that was inspired by a review left for my other fic, Taken. Set after Clarke escapes from the grounders. Only she doesn't get caught by the trap.


"C'mon, Bell. Just a little further," Clarke encouraged him.

He was bleeding badly after the grounders had caught up to them. As they were fleeing, one of them had managed to stick an arrow into his leg. They hadn't had time to stop, so she'd kept pushing him a little further, knowing that with every step Bell took, the arrow lodged in his leg stretched the wound a little further. She could only hope that they made it back to camp before he bled out.

Bell had been her savior. She had managed to escape where the grounders were holding her prisoner and had took off running through the forest, towards the direction in which she hoped was camp. She had made it a little while into the woods before she saw him. She was tired, not use to running long distances as there was no place to run on the Ark, but had taken one look at him and knew that she would make it out okay. Now, she wasn't so sure.

He had carried her across the bridge, through endless amounts of trees, and across a river. She had just about began to let her guard down, to sigh in relief that they had made it, when the sound of an arrow flying through the air embedded itself in Bell's leg. They hadn't had time to stop, so for the first time since she'd met him, she was the one pushing him through the pain, encouraging him to keep moving. No longer was he carrying her. She was walking beside him now, pushing him along. He was heavy, and she still had a massive headache from where the grounder had knocked her upside the head as he was kidnapping her, but she wasn't about to let that stop her.

It wasn't until she saw the gates of the camp, did she allow herself to finally relax. Shouts from someone, Miller maybe, filled the air, but she couldn't make out any of the words. Her arms that had been constantly pushing Bell with all their strength collapsed at her side. Without her to keep him moving, Bell whimpered slightly before falling to the ground and Clarke found herself following after him, darkness clouding her vision.

* * *

Clarke awoke with a startled gasp, immediately taking in her surroundings. She was in a tent, too big to be her own. The makeshift bed she was lying on was certainly more comfortable than her own. Where was she? Her head hurt trying to piece the puzzle together. The last thing she remembered was seeing the gate before falling to the ground. She had made it home. She smiled to herself.

Wait! Bell. He had collapsed. Where was he? Was he okay? She moved to get up, but immediately fell back, her eyes closing as the pain in her skull got too intense to ignore. She felt as if cement blocks were weighing her down.

"Princess?"

A warm hand grasped hers, pulling her back to reality. That voice. She knew that voice. She opened her eyes to see Bellamy Blake standing over her, a cup of water in hand. Without thinking, her hands rushed for the water, her thirst too strong to ignore. As the cool liquid slid down her throat, everything began to feel clearer. She was in his tent. She was safe. Finishing what was left of the water, she offered the now empty cup to Bellamy, which he placed on the ground next to them, still holding her hand in his tightly, as if he were afraid that if he were to let go, he would lose her again, which was ridiculous in itself. He was probably just overwhelmed with relief to have his only healer back. Nothing more.

"It's about time sleeping beauty awakes," he joked.

That's the Bellamy Blake she knows. She wanted to hit him. Couldn't he see now was not the time for jokes. She didn't have the time or patience to deal with them. The grounders were going to attack.

"How long?" she asked, her voice raspy from lack of use.

He understood what she meant and responded immediately. "Three days."

Three days. She had been asleep for three days. Had the grounders already attacked? Was everyone okay? Had they found Finn? Was Bell okay?

Clarke tried again to sit up, but Bellamy held her down.

"Woah there, princess," he cautioned. "You need some rest. You should probably get some more sleep."

She didn't want to sleep. She'd been sleeping for three days. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she felt her eyelids grow heavy. Instead of trying to get up again, knowing she was too weak at the moment, she settled with grasping his hand tighter and pulling him closer to her.

"Bell," she gasped out.

Bellamy looked down at his princess, her face scrounged up in concentration, sweat trickling down her forehead. Even so, she was beautiful. He grabbed the rag that had been soaking in water that they had used to clean her wounds three days earlier, but had since then been washed, and dabbed it across her forehead, wipping the beads of sweat away that had been there since her fever had started to break. Octavia swore to him that it was probably just a run of the mill fever, that she'd probably gotten sick during her trek through the woods, but you could never be too careful with these grounders. He brought his other hand, which was still clutching hers tightly, and rested her palm against his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to her wrist.

"I'm right here, princess," he whispered.

She yanked her hand from his and used it to swat the cool rag away from her warm skin. It was too relaxing. She could already feel herself start to doze off.

"No!" she groaned. "Not you."

She hadn't meant for her words to come out so harshly, but instead to clarify what she had been trying to say, which obviously wasn't working. But she was frustrated with herself for being weak. She could barely make the words come out of her mouth, and she hated it. She was Clarke Griffin, she wasn't weak, dammit!

Bellamy was taken aback. One moment she's grasping his hand tightly and gasping his name, the next she's yelling at him. He fought to hide a smile. That's his princess.

Clarke cleared her throat and raised her eyes to meet his.

"The horse," she clarified.

Realization dawned on him. She was worried about the fucking horse they had found her with outside the gates.

"Yeah," Bellamy cleared his throat. "Um, princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Where the fuck did you get a horse?"

It was a question he'd been asking himself since they'd found them collapsed together outside the gate and now he finally had a chance to get an answer. But Clarke ignored him. Honestly, he didn't know why it still surprised him. That girl never listened to a word he said.

"Is he okay?" she asked again.

Bellamy smiled, "_She_ is very okay. Octavia and Raven managed to get her stable while you were out."

"Wait, it's a girl horse?"

"So says O," he nodded.

He nearly laughed at the expression on her face. She was so confused, his poor princess.

"Well," she continued after a moment. "I think you'll like her. I named her Bell."

"You named it," he asked incredulously. "After me?"

"Hey," she says, adding as much strength to her voice as she can muster. "Is that judgment I'm hearing? She saved my life."

He smiled, "It's a horse Clarke, and I'm a male, not a female."

"Yeah," she huffed. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have such a girly name then. And that horse, saved my life," she repeated. "She deserved a name."

"Hey," he tapped the tip of her nose his finger in mock sternness. "Nothing about me is girly. And what if she already had a name, huh?"

It was a weak argument, if it could even be considered that, but to be honest, he was just teasing her now anyway.

"Bell's better than any other name she could've had," Clarke said softly, her eyes falling closed and beginning to surrender to sleep.

"And why's that?" he humored her while his hands grabbed the still damp rag that she'd swatted away just moments ago and began to wipe it across her forehead again. This time she moaned, letting the rag cool her heated skin.

"It reminds me of you."

Bellamy looked down at her, wanting to study her face, to see if she was telling the truth. But if the way her breathing had evened out was any indication, she had already fallen asleep. He took the rag away and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He would fill her in on everything that had occurred

* * *

This is the product of a review I got for my other story, Taken, and what can I say, it gave me ideas.

Let me know what you guys think!


End file.
